The desk sergeant was a middle-aged woman who seemed to know exactly who we were and, quite frankly, didn’t give a damn. We were being polite, so she was polite back.

According to her, James hadn’t called the police. His mother— Maura—had. Maura claimed Gabriel had broken in, drunk, and proceeded to beat the crap out of James, while issuing death and blackmail threats. When the police actually arrived, they’d discovered a few flaws in Maura’s story. One, no sign of break-in. Two, Gabriel was obviously sober. Three, no matter what they might think of him, they knew he wasn’t going to suddenly go raging bull on anyone. That wasn’t his rep.

The charges were simple assault and trespass, which were both misdemeanors. Serious enough, though, when you were an attorney. Yes, according to the desk sergeant, James had been taken to the hospital for possible internal injuries, but Gabriel would never have gut-punched him without provocation. James was being something I never would have thought possible. He was being an asshole.

Ricky and I were left in a room while the officer went to get Gabriel. When that door opened, I started forward, but Ricky stopped me. As Gabriel saw us, humiliation flickered over his face. It vanished in a blink, helped by the fact that I didn’t rush to him. We played it cool, as if this sort of thing happened all the time. The officer who’d escorted Gabriel gruffly told us to see ourselves out and then retreated.

Once the door closed, Ricky said, “Aren’t I supposed to be on that side of the room, and you over here?”

Gabriel only grunted, then seemed to realize Ricky was trying to lighten the mood and said, “I hope it never is reversed. I trust you know better than to get on this side. I’m presuming the police notified you, because I certainly didn’t ask them to call.”

“You should have,” I said. “And no, it was James, actually.”

“Liv was going to come bail you out,” Ricky said. “But I’m the one with the experience. So now that that’s done, I’m going to guess you’re okay handling car retrieval? I should grab some sleep before morning classes.”

He gave me a sidelong look, in case I was thinking of reminding him he didn’t have any morning classes. He was trying to make an awkward situation easier by extricating himself. I glanced at Gabriel. He looked like hell—exhausted and disheveled, with a bruise on his jaw and blood spatter on his shirt. There was a vaguely disoriented look in his eyes, too, as if he’d lost his footing and still hadn’t found it. I wasn’t letting him go anywhere on his own.

“I’ll go with Gabriel to fetch his car,” I said, passing Ricky my helmet. “Thank you.”

“Call me?”

I nodded. He made it halfway out the door before Gabriel seemed to snap out of it.

“Thank you,” he said to Ricky. “I won’t forget this.”

Ricky grinned. “That would be the idea. And I’d hope I don’t need to say it, but I’ll keep this between us. I’m sure you’ll get it resolved.”

I waited until he was gone, then handed Gabriel a hairbrush and tissue I’d dug out of my bag. I gave him my makeup compact, too, for the mirror.

“Since I’m guessing there’s no back way out…” I said.

“Right. Thanks.”

“If you pat some powder on your jaw, it’ll make the bruise less noticeable.”

He did. Yes, no one except the cops would see him. But to Gabriel, it still mattered. He cleaned up and brushed his hair, and by the time he looked presentable, he seemed a little more himself, reoriented, the usual chill back in his eyes, the steel in his jaw and spine. When we turned to go, that resolve softened again as he glanced over at me.

“Thank you,” he said. “For coming. I know I don’t deserve—” He cut himself short and pulled up straight again. “We’ll talk later.”

Gabriel’s car was where he’d left it—a half mile from James’s place. We took a cab and picked it up. I suggested Gabriel drop me off at the office, where I could hang out with a coffee while he went home and cleaned up.

“There’s coffee at my place,” he said.

I tensed. “That wasn’t a hint.”

“I know. I’m offering. I would be fine with it.”

I looked across the car at him. “No, you wouldn’t, and I’d like you to stop pretending otherwise. Your place is your place. I get that. You aren’t inviting everyone else over and telling me I’m not welcome, so I’m not offended.”

“You are welcome.”

“Can we drop this, please? Last night was not fun. I feel like I overreacted, and that’s embarrassing, but I don’t understand why you’d invite me—” I stopped and shook my head. “And that’s not dropping the subject. If you don’t want to leave me at the office, then join me for a coffee. I know a few spots we can hang out and watch the sunrise.”

It was almost comical to watch him process why anyone would want to watch a sunrise.

“We could do that,” he said at last.

“All right, then. You find me coffee, and I’ll show you a scenic parking spot.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

I had a few sunrise spots—places Dad had found where he could drive and enjoy some peace without leaving the city. This one was on a bluff. As we drove up, Gabriel peered around the darkness.

“Yes, I know,” I said. “It looks like a make-out point.”

“I was thinking more a convenient location for the exchange of illegal goods.”

“I’m sure it’s both at the right time of night, but at this hour it’s always empty. My dad used to bring me up here for hot chocolate before my early morning skating practices.”

“Figure skating?”

“Don’t give me that look.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Yes, you were. You are trying and failing to picture me in a tutu on ice. With good reason. It was my mother’s idea. Some mornings, if Dad and I got to talking up here, he’d conveniently lose track of time and I’d miss my lesson. When my mother finally realized I wasn’t getting better at skating—shockingly—she let me quit. Then I got to take up rowing, which was a compromise. It wasn’t quite as feminine as she’d like, but it was a suitably upper-class pursuit. What I really wanted to do was horseback riding.”

“I didn’t think one could get much more upper-class than that.”

“Exactly my point. But she said she had a friend whose child died after being thrown from a horse. Years later, I found out she’d just watched Gone with the Wind too many times.”

“So you never went riding?”

“Not until I was old enough to do it on my own, and by then I was driving. Horses don’t have quite the same…”

“Horsepower?”

I laughed. “Exactly.”

He ratcheted back his seat, getting comfortable. I waited until he was settled, then said, “I’m going to have to ask, you know. About tonight.”

He grunted, stared out the windshield, and sipped his coffee.

“If you don’t tell me, James will.”

Another sip of his coffee before he put the cup into the holder. “I made a mistake.” A pause. “I made several tonight. I’m not quite sure how that happened. They seemed to…”

“Snowball? Yeah. Mistakes are like that. So he called you after I left?”

Gabriel glanced at me as if surprised.

“I know you didn’t just randomly go over there and confront him. He must have called.”

“He did. We had words.”

“I bet you did.”

“The call was relatively civil, but it became clear that no matter what I said, he was not going to stop trying to contact you. I decided a personal visit was in order.”

“So you snuck past the gate.”

“I wouldn’t say snuck…”

“You found an alternate entrance. You rang the bell, presumably, since the breaking and entering charge was dropped. You then intimidated James into not calling for help.”

“I wouldn’t say—”

“You made him feel that calling for help would be cowardly.”

“I’m beginning to think I don’t need to tell you this story after all.”